W&M ScholarWorks Undergraduate Honors Theses Theses, Dissertations, & Master Projects 4-2014 "See here my show": Providence and The Theatrum Mundi in Thomas Kyd's The Spanish Tragedy Miles S. Drawdy College of William and Mary Follow this and additional works at: https://scholarworks.wm.edu/honorstheses Part of the Dramatic Literature, Criticism and Theory Commons, and the Literature in English, British Isles Commons Recommended Citation Drawdy, Miles S., ""See here my show": Providence and The Theatrum Mundi in Thomas Kyd's The Spanish Tragedy" (2014). Undergraduate Honors Theses. Paper 2. https://scholarworks.wm.edu/honorstheses/2 This Honors Thesis is brought to you for free and open access by the Theses, Dissertations, & Master Projects at W&M ScholarWorks. It has been accepted for inclusion in Undergraduate Honors Theses by an authorized administrator of W&M ScholarWorks. For more information, please contact [email protected]. Drawdy 1 The work of art assumes the existence of the perfect spectator, and is indifferent to the fact that no such person exists. -E.M. Forster It is only the one who knows God who can seek God. You cannot seek God in ignorance of God. You cannot seek the truth in ignorance of the truth. You cannot be truthful in seeking ignorantly. -Brayton Polka We attack or defend, we build or tear down, fight or are at peace, affirm or deny; but sooner or later we are compelled to halt before a last threatening danger and a last heavy punishment—the danger that, after all, we are men, and the punishment for being so. -Karl Barth I Languishing in prison awaiting execution, the sixth century senator and philosopher, Boethius, wrote his final work. Translated into English by both Chaucer and Queen Elizabeth I, The Consolation of Philosophy became a critical text for Renaissance students of history and philosophy, not least because it reaffirmed many of the theological beliefs already proclaimed by the Renaissance Christian. Preeminent among these shared beliefs was the unwavering commitment to providential thinking. In an apostrophic poem, Boethius outlines the basis tenets of providential thought: Father of earth and sky, You steer the world By reason everlasting. You bid time Progress from all eternity. Yourself Unshifting, You impel all things to move. No cause outside Yourself made you give shape To fluid matter, for in You was set The form of the ungrudging highest good. Drawdy 2 From heavenly patterns You derive all things. Yourself most beautiful, You likewise bear In mind a world of beauty, and You shape Our world in like appearance. You command Its perfect parts, to form a perfect world. (56) Essentially, providentialism refers to the belief, staunchly held and vigilantly proclaimed, that the earth—indeed, the cosmos—is divinely ordered and that this order, when sensitively interpreted, reveals, at least in part, the divine will. Thus, it is unsurprising that the very word “providence” derives from the Latin providere meaning “to attend to” or “to foresee.” As Boethius clarifies, “It is better to term it providentia (‘looking forward spatially’) rather than praevidentia (‘looking forward in time’) for it [i.e. providence] is not apart from the lowliest things, and it gazes out on everything as from one of the world’s lofty peaks” (12). Boethius goes on to introduce the concept of the Eternal Present, arguing, “the foresight by which God discerns all things [is] not as a sort of foreknowledge of the future, but a knowledge of the unceasingly present moment” (112). God predates time by virtue of existing outside the constraints of temporality and it is from this vantage point that He orders human history. In both its temporal and spatial considerations providence is, by definition, all-encompassing. Modernity, constantly wary of placing limits on individual sovereignty and free will, may be ill-prepared to subscribe to the tenets of providentialism yet it must be noted that “the doctrine of providence was not necessarily irrational. There is no logically self- evident boundary beyond which a sovereign creator can be deemed not to direct events. Providence seemed the friend of reason, even though it of course transcended it” (Worden, 63). It is equally true that “the disposition to see prodigies, omens and portents, sprang from a coherent view of the world as a moral order reflecting God’s purposes and Drawdy 3 physically sensitive to the moral conduct of human beings” (Thomas, 91). It was this sense of reason and order that made providence so attractive, and so “in place of unacceptable moral chaos was erected the edifice of God’s omnipotent sovereignty” (Thomas, 107). Of course, “God” is here a flexible concept and the classical conceptions of Logos, Tyche, and Fortuna could be and were appropriately substituted for the Christian concept of God. Thus, in the same sense in which providence transcended reason, it transcended religions as well. Indeed, as sixteenth and seventeenth-century Christians extolled the virtues of providential thinking, they often pointed to their pre- Christian and pagan predecessors (Boethius among them) as evidence of the inherent truth within the doctrine of providence, arguing that if the heathens of antiquity could recognize providential design, clearly the Renaissance Christian should have no difficulty doing so as well. “It was felt necessary to establish the fact of Providence – not necessarily in a particular Christian sense, but in the general sense in which such a doctrine might claim to have universal acknowledgement by all men of good sense” (Battenhouse, 88). This universal quality is attested to, in part, by the sociological function providential thinking served. After all, it “consoled men for the death of their close relatives, comforted them in their worldly misfortunes, and held out the prospect of eternal felicity as compensation for the short-lived sorrows of earthly existence” (Thomas, 82). These benefits, in conjunction with the reiteration of religious truths, may explain the perennial interest in providentialism exhibited by figures from Seneca to Calvin. This traditional concern with explicating providence is characterized by a reliance Drawdy 4 upon the theatrum mundi. It is this partnership between providence and the theatrum mundi that I will now trace. Historically, providence has encouraged, with startling frequency and a surprising lack of abstraction, conceptions of God as an “artificer,” an “author,” a “painter,” a “poet,” a demiourgos [artisan] and, most significantly, a poêtês [playwright]. The latter comparison is the foundation of the theatrum mundi, also referred to as either the play or theatre metaphor. A relic of antiquity, survivor of the Middle Ages, and cornerstone of Renaissance thought, the theatrum mundi is an essentially Stoic idea. Stoicism, a Hellenistic philosophy broadly concerned with the relationship of man to the natural universe, could hardly have avoided such considerations as providential design. It is telling that the earliest written instance of the theatrum mundi dates to the fifth century BCE and is attributed, with some reservation, to Democritus. In a surviving fragment of his work, the so-called “laughing philosopher” states, The world’s a stage. Life’s a play. You come. You look. You go away. (qtd. in Christian, 1) Even in its brevity, this fragment is emblematic of the early theatrum mundi. The proposition that the world is a theatrical stage upon which the cosmic drama is performed and that man is merely an actor forms the foundation of the theatrum mundi and, as such, remains unaltered throughout its history. These terms of the theatrum mundi conveniently align with providential thought; both strive to articulate a world that is created and ordered by some supernatural force whose omniscience and omnipotence are absolute. Consequently, both the theatrum mundi and providence concern themselves with the relationship between this supernatural creator and man. Drawdy 5 A few examples should suffice to introduce this relationship. Plotinus, in his essay on providence, encourages his readers, “Murders, death in all its guises, the reduction and sacking of cities, all must be to us just such a spectacle as the changing scenes of a play; all is but the varied incident of a plot, costume on and off, acted grief and lament” (173). This instruction is an extension of his observation that “it [i.e. the universe] has the unity, or harmony, of a drama torn with struggle” (175) – an observation shared by Thomas Aquinas who states that “since his [i.e. God’s] knowledge is related to things like that of an artist to his works of art…it must be that all things are set under his ordering, like works of art under the art that makes them” (93). This notion of the earth and its inhabitants as a work of art is elaborated upon by Jean Calvin who, in his exegesis on Genesis, notes, “After the world had been created, man was placed in it, as in a theater, that he, beholding above him and beneath the wonderful work of God, might reverently adore their Author” (qtd. in Cannon, 218). These three examples are meant to serve merely as touchstones to demonstrate that the theatrum mundi was available in classical, medieval, and Renaissance contexts as a productive metaphor for philosophers and theologians to invoke as a means of conceptualizing the workings of providence and man’s relation to his creator. While this historical connection between the theatrum mundi and providentialism may have been initiated for convenience, this would not explain the prominent position of both within Renaissance thought. “Used in a multitude of ways, to describe the nature of deceivers, the splendour of man’s life and its transience, the inexorability of Fortune, or the character of individual moments of time, the play metaphor was for Elizabethans an inescapable expression, a means of fixing the essential quality of the age” (Righter, 84).